A post in which karma bites me square in the butt

Lesson of the week: Making fun of one's spouse and his ailments has been perceived as an invitation for yet another recurrence of The Mono.

Has anyone else had this virus as an adult? How long did it take to completely kick it?

These days, it shows up about once a month. Best I can tell, these mini-relapses are caused by too much physical exertion, long days at work or my period. They cause chills, body aches and this horrible ... tiredness. Not sleepy-tired -- more like my arms feel so heavy that I keep checking to make sure they haven't fallen off.

I had been feeling pretty good up until the holidays. But I did too much, got a nasty sinus infection and then, for some completely stupid reason, thought this would be a good time to resume exercising.

Yesterday, I drove all the way down to south Arkansas to cover a capital murder defendant's court hearing. Misery. At one point, I considered curling up in the fetal position on my court bench, but decided the judge might find it odd. I felt so bad, I would have hid out in the bathroom, but leaving the courtroom would have involved slithering down a very narrow aisle, which was now filled with people. When the hearing ended, I drove back here, straight past the newsroom, directly to my house, where I went to bed.

This is ridiculous, I thought. This can't keep happening. I don't have time for it.

Back to the doctor I went, figuring I had just enough time before I would have to file my story from that morning.

Neither he nor the nurse seemed to find it strange that I'm still not completely recovered EIGHT MONTHS after I first fell ill.

"Oh, yes," the nurse said knowingly, nodding her head. "This is so hard to get over."

Well, at least they don't seem to think I'm crazy. Maybe he won't remember that I'm the Googler.

The doctor arrived. He read my chart, then said, "You realize it can take a year to recover from mono, right?"

Blank look from me.

Don't tell him you've been Googling. Just maintain the look of mild interest in his explanation for your condition.

"Surely you've Googled this, right?"

Busted.

"Well, yeah."

"So what did you read?"

"That the magic number is SIX MONTHS. Everybody gets better by six months -- unless you have some sort of an immune disorder. By the way, do you think maybe I have lupus?"

"We tested for lupus back when we tested for everything else. You don't have lupus."

"Well then what's the deal with the six months?"

"Like I said, it can take a lot longer to get over this."

Thus followed a story about his friend who was still unable to work his usual 14-hour days a year after getting mono.

Oh shit.

"Look, I'm a busy person. I've always been an active person, although I realize you probably can't tell that by looking at me -- although bear in mind, I haven't been able to complete a good workout since I got this stupid virus. But anyway, I have to function. I can't keep running home to bed, especially when I have a story due by 6."

So we set up a regimen to help me build up some strength and endurance and, just as I thought we were done, he decided to check my lymph nodes, which would have been fine if he'd just stuck to ones located in my neck, but oh no, then he went for the underarms.

Note to readers: I get very nervous around doctors, which means I develop this sudden, inappropriate laugh and cough. And I sweat. A lot.

No, not the pits! my inner voice screamed.

"Lymph nodes are fine," he declared.

So maybe I shouldn't mention the worries about lymphoma, brought on, of course, by incessant Googling. No need to further emphasize my neurotic behavior. Maybe I should ask about the sweating though, thereby implying that this is uncommon, so he doesn't think I'm totally disgusting.

"OK, well, let's do some more blood work, just to check your thyroid again. We'll call in a few days. Meanwhile, go ahead and start trying to build up again. Maybe start with a 10-minute walk each day."

I went back to work and filed my story. Then I came home, sprawled on the couch, and whined to Hubs about her terrible I feel.

Karma, how I love thee.